


Reminders

by yawnnnn



Series: . after the fall . [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hinata Hajime Tries, Hurt/Comfort, Lectures, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Multi, Naegi Makoto-centric, Out of Character Naegi Makoto, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Spoilers, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawnnnn/pseuds/yawnnnn
Summary: Makoto Naegi is jealous. Jealous deep down of how it turned out for them. They are complaining. It's hard to keep his senses with him.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko & Naegi Makoto & Togami Byakuya, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya, Minor Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito - Relationship, Naegi Makoto & Everyone, Naegi Makoto & Ultimate Despair Member(s)
Series: . after the fall . [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057079
Comments: 18
Kudos: 81





	1. Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> Um,, take my angst and the two sequels that will soon (or already are) written with it. 
> 
> Basically I was thinking about how the remnants, who did the bad things, got to survive instead of Makoto's class, who did the good things. I was wondering how Makoto might feel about that.
> 
> The first chapter is just Makoto needing a hug and then after that we have Makoto/Byakuya/Kyoko comfort
> 
> And then finally I'm gonna write one with the sdr2 cast talking it out with minor Hajime Hinata/Komaeda Nagito (and maybe Kamukoma bc tbh look at the amount of fics I've written for them.
> 
> Edit: A fourth chapter is becoming added, and a UDG sequel will be added to the collection this series will be in, called 'After the Fall'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to help others recover when you're left to recover on your own. When they are what you're recovering from.

“We wouldn’t have to go through all this if you twerps in the future foundation would’ve checked for viruses! So leave me alone…”

“Kazuichi, we know the recovery process is difficult, and by all means it should be, but you’re getting better day by day, and the others can continue supporting you until--”   
  


“Until what? Until we become hopeful and shit?” Akane interrupted, her strong voice bellowing throughout the room. ( _ Her nonchalant aggressive behaviour made him think back to Mondo _ ).

It was a delicate situation, to be handled with care. Makoto knew that, and yet…

“Pardon me, Mr. Naegi, but we are all very… upsetted by the fact that month ago we woke up as rabid animals who festered in despair, and now that we’re just remembering what happened during the Neo World Program, it’s a lot to take in.” Sonia’s words of advice were polite and comforting as they could be, but the poison and resentment leaking out of them reminded how Celeste… how  _ Taeko  _ used to speak around them. He could read how upset and just  _ utterly frustrated  _ she was.  _ He  _ was frustrated too.

He cracked a wobbly smile, and he could feel his cheeks strain at the notion, at having to  _ force  _ himself to curve his lip into a distorted jumble of teeth and friendliness, having to  _ hide  _ the fact that he’d been losing sleep and sanity with every single second that ticked by, ever since he woke up with his head laying on a classroom desk. It felt like the expression was burned onto his face like a scar. (It was  _ still burning. _ ) 

“But at least with Nagito’s arrival, everyone’s woken up safe and sound, right? From here, we can only go up from h…” Makoto felt his voice waver towards the end, pressured and shoved back down his throat by the glares from the others. He’d been pushing his fingers together trepidly and occasionally running his tie between them. It had been an entire month since Hajime had used Izuru’s talents to bring everyone back, and created the World Destroyer, and he still couldn’t figure out

_ what to do with all of them _ . It was a lot more to take on that he’d first optimistically imagined, and having to provide therapy, medical services, food supplies, and  _ god,  _ so much more to the war criminals took a lot of effort, especially during those periods of time where Hajime  _ refused  _ to use his talents, and they needed to give him space.

“Woken up  _ safe and sound _ ? What is your definition of  _ safe _ ?” Mahiru started, worry, fear, and anger laced intricately through her tone of voice. “Akane is half-starved to death, Sonia has permanent back damage, Hiyoko needs a month to heal her wounded leg, and not to mention the people who came into contact with  _ her _ .” (her caring and orderly attitude almost  _ reminded him of Taka _ ). 

Makoto shook at the mention of that person. All this time and he was still apprehensive about  _ her, about all of this _ . Where was the confidence he’d had at the end of the sixth trial, where  _ she’d  _ sentenced herself to death?

“Nagito has  _ her  _ hand, Fuyuhiko has  _ her  _ eye, Mikan’s  _ oh god, gotten something that no one wanted _ , and you can still find the scratches of  _ her  _ red nails all over our skin!” Mahiru began screeching in a panic, and each individual remnant ( _ no, Makoto has to remind himself, they were patients now _ ) shrunk back at the mention of their name. “They were my  _ friends  _ Makoto, and you wonder why we’re so emotional?” 

_ Better than stabbed, impaled, pummeled, hung up like a cross, electrocuted, bleeding on the floor, betrayed, burnt alive, poisoned, smashed, nearly crushed by a A GIANT STONE BLOCK--  _

Makoto stopped the invasive and bitter thoughts from devouring his composure. He took deep breaths. Of course they were emotionally devastated, having to see people they cared about suffering.  _ (He wasn’t complaining).  _ He needed to offer the best words of encouragement that he could! 

“Of course, and you have all the rights to be, I swear I didn’t mean it that way, you guys. We just wanted to encourage you to move forward. One day, you’ll find a hope that you can cling onto--”

“Oh, shut the FUCK UP!” Fuyuhiko scowled, and Makoto pulled back as he’d been punched violently in the face. ( _ Just like how he’d been when Sayaka was still alive _ .) “You’re just talking like that obsessive freak!” He watched as Nagito just gave a joyous smile at the insult. ( _ Chihiro would’ve cried _ ). “Don’t remind me of him…”

Don’t remind you of him?

Then suddenly his sour thoughts were the only thing that could fill his mind, ripping open past wounds and making tears brim in his eyes. And the stinging pain on his cheek from the contact with Fuyuhiko’s knuckles stung like a thousand needles. The tiny bottle he’d so gingerly been storing all the stress in was suddenly appetizing to drink, and before he could think whether it was kind or mean or malicious words came spilling out of his mouth like pools of  _ blood. _

“Remind you… of him? Remind you, really, haha…” Makoto violently trembled and Fuyuhiko lifted a single eyebrow, gaze still angry and focused on him, like he was a  _ target _ . With the distrust that everyone had so  _ kindly  _ gifted him at the  _ class trials _ . With that disgusting look that he was sure had once been reflected in  _ his eyes  _ at the class trial, that stunned look of  _ distrust, of disbelief _ . 

“Like you have any rights to say that, Fuyuhiko, all of you!” Suddenly the entire room’s attention focused on him ( _ JUST  _ like in the class trials) and Makoto couldn’t bring himself to clench his teeth or fists any longer. “You’re all constantly reminding me of my DEAD CLASSMATES every day! Why do you all just give up  _ this easily _ !?” Hajime reached out for his shoulder, but Makoto backed away from everyone. He could feel so many pairs of eyes on him that he thought he might collapse, and drown in this sea of resurfacing emotions. He did. His knees gave in ( _ just like all of the remnants _ ) and he found himself on the scratchy carpet that probably hadn’t been properly cleaned for years. Sonia approached, but Hajime held out a hand to warn him away. 

“You say you can’t help the way you’re acting because your friends  _ are hurt _ ? You think that your friends are  _ not safe and sound _ ? Well, they’re definitely better off than MINE! At least your friends aren’t corpses!” Makoto yelled, for the first time in a long while. Makoto  _ got mad  _ for the first time in a long while. He gripped his hair, trembling on the floor, as if he was the one getting admonished, and not vice versa.

“Makoto, do you wanna let me handle them for a while?” Hajime muttered apprehensively. Makoto didn’t hear ( _ acted like he didn’t _ ). 

“And not to mention you, Kazuichi.” Makoto muttered, logic and kindness far behind him. Kazuichi shriveled back, regret and guilt swimming in his eyes. Nekomaru reached a hand over to calm him down, and Kazuichi placed his own atop the large hand on his shoulder. “You keep saying  _ over  _ and  _ over  _ that it’s our fault, but what about the six of my class that are even  _ left _ ? I’m, really sorry to mention it… but, the  _ entire  _ despair takeover was made possible because of all of you! Ever think about it that way?” Makoto’s entire brain was screaming at him to stop, violently scraping its fingers at the walls of his head, but stored fire within kept him going and going. “All MY FRIENDS died because of  _ you! _ ” He spat, feeling despair start to settle in his senses. (And he  _ can’t  _ let that happen, he  _ can’t let HER WIN-- _ )

“ _ We  _ didn’t know what we were doing. We already went over the fact that she used Chiaki and that  _ accursed  _ video to brainwash us into despair.” The imposter suddenly spoke up from across the room, and Makoto glared at him in spite of himself, a sharp hiss making its way through his teeth.

“Everyone, I think it’s b-best if we just let Ma-Makoto have s-s-some space for a moment…!” Mikan squealed, and Makoto didn’t stop. (He  _ couldn’t  _ stop. He felt like  _ she was taking over his brain _ . He  _ needed  _ to stop that. He  _ needed  _ to calm down...) 

“And… we did… nothing wrong. You’re all war criminals, and yet you’re the chosen ones to survive. Some lucky student I am.” The irate atmosphere was beginning to fade, and so was Makoto’s rage. He let Hajime approach now, and slowly steadied his breathing. Suddenly he felt another hand on his shoulder. It was pale. Corpse pale in fact. As if it was disease ridden.

“Nagito, I swear if you--” Hajime hissed under his breath, but was interrupted by Nagito’s heart-piercing glare. 

“Let me talk, Hajime.” Makoto could feel Nagito’s eyes on him, but didn’t bother to return the favor, or even respond. (If he does anything  _ but stay silent,  _ he’d probably just start being consumed by despair again. Yelling. Ruining all the progress they’ve made.)

“I know how it feels to suffer through so much loss, and although there’s no need for you to empathize with trash like me… I know how it feels to be jealous of others.” Nagito gently whispered, not loud enough for the rest to hear, and the most serious Makoto had ever heard him. He took a deep breath and drew his eyes to a close. “You just… how do I phrase this without sounding like me… need to know that things will only get better, even if they go downhill again. You can just keep climbing up that hill over and over. Got it?” Makoto noticed the tears that had been flowing from his eyes and onto his hoodie, and he felt  _ so pathetic _ . He was supposed to be fine, to have grown past the killing game and move beyond that to find a true hope, a true  _ future _ , but here he was, being comforted by a remnant. 

He heard the doorknob slowly turn, and the wooden frame be pushed open. He could recognize those sets of footsteps anywhere. He tried to stop sobbing, but it was no use.  _ Terrible that they have to see me like this _ . 

“This meeting has been going on for far too long-- Makoto? What is it now…” 

“I’m sorry…” He tried to weakly smile. It ended up becoming a twisted frown.

“Byakuya, soften up, will you? He’s crying. Makoto, come with us. It’s going to… be okay.” Kyoko’s gentle voice sounded and the two of them pulled him up. He selfishly leaned on their support and couldn’t tell whether his tears were landing on Byakuya’s blazer or Kyoko’s leather jacket. Either way, it felt nice.

“I’ll take care of everything from here, let Makoto get some rest.” Hajime said, and there seemed to be a shaky and sympathetic tone to his voice.

The door closed. The remnants stood, not knowing what exactly to think of it all.


	2. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts can quiet down with enough reassurance. It's okay. It is. Naturally.

As Makoto staggered down the hallway with the two people he cared for most as support, he didn’t bother to pay attention. (Or, to be more precise, he didn’t know just what to say, each of his excuses surfacing to his lips but falling off the roof of his mouth and back into the deep pit of his stomach.) He managed to feebly wrap his hands around the two next to his own, and felt a pale thumb rub the back of his hand, while Byakuya’s squeezed his right hand tighter, noticeably glancing away at the action. Makoto tried to blink away his tears and let the remaining trail down his face. He held back strangled sobs with determination and attempted to regulate his breathing, and by some miracle he was able to calm down. 

The door to Makoto’s room was pushed open, and while Byakuya started to close it, he tried to smile at Kyoko when she led him to the bed to sit down. He wasn’t able to. 

“So… what happened?” Kyoko voiced, sitting on the blankets with old patterns that his grandma might have liked to own. The blonde one soon followed, sitting at a distance and adjusting his glasses to push up the bridge of his nose. Makoto sent guilty glances to both of them, and didn’t know how to respond. Would they  _ hate  _ him if he shared what he’d done? His two classmates were so  _ mature  _ and had actual  _ control  _ over their emotions, so he wouldn’t be so easily understood. (It was similar to how it had all been back in Hope’s Peak Academy,  _ him feeling stricken with grief _ , and those two being nothing but unaffected and headstrong,  _ unlike himself. _ )

A part of his mind was bashing into his skull that they’d admonish him for _admonishing_ the remnants ( _patients,_ he has to remind himself _yet_ _AGAIN_ ), but the other cells couldn’t help but remind him that they’d never do that. ( _they_ of all people should understand, he _selfishly_ thinks to himself.) and so he decides to tell them.

“I yelled at them. I didn’t  _ mean  _ to, but they were talking about how-- how everything was our fault, and how their friends were hurt, and I… I was  _ thinking  _ about how everything that happened to  _ us  _ was  _ their  _ fault, and how my friends were.. are…. and I know that none of that is true but-- but… I…” 

“About time someone spelled it out for them.” interrupted a familiar stark tone, and it only felt natural for the tallest of them to be saying something like that. “Honestly, you’ve been going too easy on those ungrateful freaks.” Makoto glanced up from his knees to face Byakuya, who gave him a familiar stern area and sarcastic smirk that was interchangeable with his regular smile.

“He’s not entirely out of his mind this time, you know. While it is progressive to support them, spoil them too much and they’ll end up rotten.” Kyoko placed a gloved hand on his shoulder and he didn’t feel comforted in the least. He was sure they didn’t deserve a beating of such harsh words like that ( _ sure they did. why not? after all they’d done? _ ) 

“That doesn’t matter!” He shouted, causing the two of them to slightly recoil. (here he was,  _ yelling  _ again) “I’m sorry, I just feel… so incredibly guilty. All the progress we had made that session, it was all  _ ruined,  _ and it’s all my fault.” He whispered that last part bleakly, his voice hoarse from all the times he had to raise it. ( _ he thinks even Leon might’ve done a better job than whatever he just created.) _ “Imagine what they think of me, what they think of  _ themselves  _ now.” He felt increasingly idiotic and foolish with each syllable that left his mouth.

“Come on Makoto,  _ surely  _ you don’t truly believe that the way you reacted was  _ all  _ your fault?” the blonde to his right rolled his eyes, (and Makoto thinks  _ no, he doesn’t,  _ in fact it’s their fault for  _ provoking  _ him. It’s their fault for being  _ living reminders  _ of all that he lost in those short months holed up in hell.) “While what you said back there might not be entirely justified, I’m sure some of it was. After all, you’re not the only one who is upset with them. We’ve all been meticulously holding ourselves back only because you wanted us to play the ‘nice guys.’

“No offense intended, of course.” Kyoko added, sending a warning glare to Byakuya. Not the only one? He had thought he  _ was  _ the only one who wanted to seek revenge from them. Kyoko and Byakuya were much too logical and driven from the reasons behind actions for that. ( _ were they? Was he really not the only one being slowly infected and eaten away at by this never ending despair? _ )

He felt the ruined company heir stiffen and then soften beside him, the hand entwined with his own clutching tighter as he continued. 

“I refuse to mention my own weaknesses… but… that imposter of theirs. He manipulated my absence and ruined my company. Even under the influence of  _ that wench,  _ staining the Togami family name is not something so easily forgiven, or  _ forgotten,  _ as they seem to want.” (And Makoto glanced at Byakuya’s eyes through his glasses, recognizing that occasional glimmer of  _ sadness  _ that he’d learned so long ago to read.) 

“No matter how collected I am, I, too, must admit that I’ve often thought of backhand slapping Fuyuhiko when he complains that I did not investigate his sister’s murder. Mahiru with her friend, as well. It was a busy time with me, with my father and my own looking into Kamukura Izuru… I did not consider the case to be something of priority.” (Makoto watched as Kyoko’s eyes began to water at the mention of her  _ father _ . And he remembers that bright present box they’d opened to find his  _ head in _ .)

Wrapped in a blanket of warmth and support, it almost seemed like his meltdown earlier was  _ okay,  _ that it was  _ to be condoned _ . (Of course it is, what else? He was just acting based on his own  _ feelings. _ ) But it wasn’t. No matter how much reassurance they offered him, he was sure that his words must’ve rooted deep in the group’s minds. And to burden them with a psychological pressure and guilt such as that? He might’ve well been pushing them along the path back to despair. (No, not ALL OVER AGAIN, please.) 

“No matter if it was natural or not, it affected them, though.  _ I  _ affected them just by screaming my pathetic frustrations throughout the room.” 

Strands of white hair brushed at Makoto’s shoulder as Kyoko leaned far down onto it. “The patients aren’t  _ that  _ easily broken, Makoto, in fact they are much less fragile than you’d like to believe.” Their cheeks connected, and he could feel the previous wetness evaporating at the warmth. “I suspect they’re talking everything out right now, just like we are now. It’s okay.” She purred, the cold facade melting off from their shared body heat.

“...it’s… okay…” he repeated silently, falling into the pattern of her lean and resting on Byakuya, who raised a hand to ruffle his hair.

“It is.” Kyoko muttered under his breath, her words barely reaching his ear, making it tingle.

“Naturally.” Byakuya joined in, pulling and petting at the brown strands of hair until Makoto promptly fell asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> .


End file.
